


Leaving the Nest

by 27dragons, monobuu, tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [46]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Bonding, Dragon Riders, M/M, Presumed Dead, brock rumlow/jasper sitwell (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22574308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/pseuds/monobuu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: For Tony Stark BingoTisfan - 3023 - K5 Dragon27Dragons - 3033 - adopted Dragon RiderMonobuu - 3087 - S3 Natasha Romanov/Black WidowTony’s spent his whole life training to be a dragon rider. That the dragon who’s chosen him is betrothed is only of minor concern; having to marry his dragon’s mate’s rider is well worth getting to fly. That is, until Tony falls in love with a common soldier and is faced with having to choose between his dream and his love.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Series: Tony Stark Bingo [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030077
Comments: 81
Kudos: 583
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Leaving the Nest

**Author's Note:**

> sorry the art was missing, it's posted now

Tony slipped away from the hall as soon as the meal was done. The rest of the candidates would be deep in their cups soon and boasting about the dragons who would choose them, about the deeds they would be known for, the lovers they would take, the riches they would gather.

Grateful as he was to be housed in the candidates’ dorms and out of his father’s house, Tony had no stomach for it all.

He pulled a heavy cloak over his shoulders and made his way down the hill and into the city proper, through the artisans’ markets and past the pubs and inns to the soldiers’ barracks. He held his breath as he went inside, making his way through the dimly-lit halls by rote memory, now. He tapped on the door, swallowing against the ache in his throat that had been there almost all day. “Bucky? It’s me.”

The door opened into a small, spartan room. Bucky was nothing like the elegant courtiers, the diamonds-in-the-rough of the rider candidates, the richly dressed and polite riders that populated the court and the Nest.

He was a common soldier, strong and smart and handsome, but poor, and coming from one of the smallest hamlets in the nation, this was just about as high as he could reach. A Sergeant, through bravery and skill at arms, but unlikely to ever be much more.

And yet, he was also pure and perfect. 

“Hey there, doll,” Bucky said. “Phillips let us do targets for the afternoon off. More fool him, he’s never going to get me to drill at this rate.”

Tony tried to smile, but misery pulled at his chest, and all he could do was throw himself into Bucky’s arms and release the flood of tears that had been threatening all day. “Bucky,” he gasped. “The next Choosing has been set. A tenday.”

Bucky slid both arms around him, squeezing Tony’s shoulders. “What’s got you in a dither about it? The Captain’s been neglecting to attend the Choosin’s for years now. An’ I thought he was sniffing around the Rand boy, anyway?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m on the list,” he managed, breath hitching. That wasn’t unusual; Tony had been to four or five previous Choosings. Most candidates were called several times before they were actually chosen and bonded. No one knew why -- the dragons refused to explain the workings of their choices. “And Danny isn’t.” He pulled in the deepest breath his tight-squeezed lungs would hold and looked up into Bucky’s clear, ice-pale eyes. “And Steve specifically said he would be there this time.”

Most candidates didn’t know which dragon would choose them until it happened, though patterns could be detected in who a particular dragon spoke to and spent time with. Tony, on the other hand, had known since he was a boy of six that the dragons’ Captain, Steve, intended to choose him. The only question had been _when_.

“This is it,” Tony said, throat so tight it came out as a croak. “Ten days.”

Bucky let Tony curl against him. “We could run away,” he suggested, very tentatively. It had never been done before. “Ten days is a good head start. We could be two kingdoms over by then.”

Tony had considered it. Proud as he’d once been to be the Captain’s intended rider, the excitement had faded considerably when he’d learned that Steve was betrothed, in the manner of dragons, to the chief of one of the many factions within the dragons’ kingdom -- which meant that Tony would be mated to that dragon’s rider. Pride had turned to dread entirely when Tony had fallen in love with Bucky, who would never be a rider, could never even dream of being Tony’s mate.

But-- “We can’t,” Tony whispered. “You can’t give up everything for me, not like that.”

“I don’t see why not,” Bucky muttered. “You think there’s anything here for me, without you? I can swing a sword for Xavier as well as I can for Shield.”

“You’d resent it, _me_ , eventually,” Tony said. “For making you sacrifice your honor.”

“Thunderbolts are always looking for mercenaries,” Bucky said. “Honor’s not gonna keep me warm at night, Tony. And you-- what will you do, just give everything up for a _lizard_?” Which was really about as rude as you could get about dragonkind. Calling a dragon a lizard or reptile was about as vulgar as calling humans hairless monkeys.

Tony let out a soft huff of shock. “Steve’s okay,” he said. “I _like_ Steve. I just...” Steve’s promised mate, Rumlow, was sharp-edged and cruel, the kind of dragon that tortured its prey. He didn’t think Steve was looking forward to their pairing, either. Rumlow’s rider wasn’t as bad, but did nothing to discourage Rumlow’s viciousness, either. “I wouldn’t have any money,” he added. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I have a little money put aside for a rainy day,” Bucky said. “The outskirt kingdoms, I bet they could use a good blacksmith, some of ‘em, in the villages. You’d be making plows and horseshoes more than swords, but-- I know you can do that work.”

“Yeah, of course. But--” Tony pulled back a little, just enough to examine Bucky’s face. “You’re really serious? You’d do that? You think we can do it?” It would be giving up everything Tony had ever known, but to be with Bucky... It would be worth it.

“It’s selfish, I know,” Bucky said, and he kissed Tony’s temple. “But I love you, an’... if you’re willin’ to come with me, I’m more’n willin’ to take you out of here. I think we could do it. What’s the Captain of Lizards gonna do, admit that his chosen rider wanted a human soldier more? No, he’ll pick someone else. You’ll see. Dragons ain’t like you and me, doll.”

Tony spent time with dragons every day; he already knew that. But in some ways, he thought, they were more like humans than either species wanted to admit. “I”ll... I love you, too,” he said, burying his face in the safety of Bucky’s neck. “Let’s do it. We’ll go. Not tonight, but tomorrow I’ll put a pack together, and we can slip away after your watch?”

“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Bucky said, and the smile on his face was like the sun coming up. “We can head straight for the Green Anvil. You know what they say-- love sworn on the Anvil is unbreakable.”

Tony chuckled, and if it was a little watery, Bucky didn’t mention it. “I don’t need the Anvil to tell me that,” he said, letting himself relax a little, melting into Bucky’s embrace. “All I need is you.”

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Bucky swore. “Since the first minute I ever saw you. It’s always been you.” He ran his fingers down Tony’s cheek until they rested behind Tony’s ear, kissed him once, then again, soft, nuzzling pecks. “We’ll make it, you’ll see.”

* * *

They didn’t make it.

Tony didn’t know how his father had discovered their plan. Maybe one of the other soldiers had overheard their planning. Or maybe one of the servants had spotted the pack in Tony’s room and guessed. Maybe the dragons could read minds.

It didn’t matter how it had happened, only that it _had_. And now Tony was locked in his room, not the cozy dorm room at the Nest, but the larger, colder room in his father’s house, hard-edged and unforgiving. There was a guard posted outside the door, and another across the yard, with strict instructions to watch for Tony trying to climb out the window.

And Howard had stormed away muttering under his breath about seeing Bucky flogged and run out of the city if not out of the nation entirely.

Howard had no intention of letting go of the power that Tony’s bond with the Captain would bring to the family, even if it meant sacrificing everything Tony was.

It was Rhodey and Roxxy, because of course it was, that flew up to give Tony the news. Technically, Rhodey wasn’t Roxxy’s rider, yet, but there he was, astride the grey beast, barely visible in the night sky. “He got away,” Rhodey reported.

Tony bit his lip and reached out to touch Roxxy’s muzzle in thanks. “That’s... that’s good,” he sighed. His own escape looked much less likely. “He’ll be okay.”

“He is strong, and brave,” Roxxy said. “Understand the Captain cannot acknowledge this incident, without losing face. But, were he able, he would express grief for your loss, and to make you aware that he does this not out of disregard for your pain, but deep and abiding need. I, myself, am commanded to forget any of this conversation. It has not occurred.”

Tony managed a small smile. That was, by draconic standards, very generous. “What conversation?” he said. “Thank you,” he added to them both. So much for the admittedly slender hope that Roxxy could be convinced to carry him away to rejoin Bucky in exile. Or the even smaller hope that Steve would have decided to turn Tony away from the Nest entirely. “You should get back, before you’re seen.”

“I am but a shadow in the sky,” Roxxy bragged. “Only seen when I wish it. The Great Egg’s blessing on you, Tony Stark. We are all looking forward to your pairing.”

“You’ll be okay,” Rhodey told him. “Being a rider is worth puttin’ up with an awful lot of bullshit. They say you can tell the strength of the rider by the magnificence of the dragon, and the Captain is pretty damn impressive.”

Tony leaned out the window to clap Rhodey’s shoulder. “I’ll survive,” he said. “It could be worse. At least Steve’s not betrothed to Vanko. If I thought I’d have to marry _Hammer_ , I’d just throw myself out the window right now.”

“I might even help, if that were the case,” Rhodey said.

Roxxy snorted, sparks flying out of the end of her muzzle and sizzling on the floor in Tony’s room. “Humans are ridiculous,” but she said it fondly.

“It’s a wonder dragons even put up with us,” Tony agreed. He felt a little better. At least Bucky would be all right. And if Tony had to go through with this... at least he’d have Rhodey at his side.

“You have your uses,” Roxxy said. “Someday, we might even figure out what they are.”

With that, she launched herself away from the side of the building. Steve could not have done it. He was strong and powerful, but almost eight times Roxxy’s size. Tony was going to feel like a worm on Steve’s broad neck.

Tony watched until, even straining, he couldn’t pick out their dark shape against the night sky, and then slid to the floor to wrap his arms around his knees and hide his face. Only a miracle could save him now.

* * *

Bucky hadn’t meant to fall in love. He wasn’t a fool, no matter what people might have said if they knew the truth.

He certainly had never intended to fall in love with someone as clearly unobtainable as one of the rider candidates.

Even if they hadn’t been bound for a pairing with a dragon, the riders were all wealthy, elite. No one really knew what dragons needed gold for, only that they needed it, and in large amounts. Without human families like the Starks or the Rands, the dragons would die off. Even if Tony hadn’t been slated for a pairing with the Dragon Captain, it was likely that one of the other dragons would snap him up.

Funny how good sense and good intentions meant nothing when faced with a quirky little smile and a pair of warm brown eyes.

Bucky’s act of so-called treason had cost him his commission. He’d been handed the few things that belonged to him, including his sword and armor, at least. Told to leave the kingdom and never return on pain of blinding. There was nothing for him, not here. Not anymore.

Bucky shouldered his bag and made his way to the stagecoach, and from the coach to the coast.

He didn’t really know where he’d go from there. The Free Isles, maybe. Become a mercenary soldier, fighting for money and blood instead of honor.

He’d meant it when he said he would give up everything for Tony. He’d just meant to have _Tony_.

At least he would be spared the pain of watching Tony marry someone else, a loveless union to solidify the treaty with the new Nest, and provide protection for the people. It was a noble sacrifice.

Or so Bucky kept telling himself.

It felt a little less noble when the stagecoach Bucky was on was attacked. By a dragon. He heard the screams of the horses, and then he was plucked from the rubble and dragged into the sky.

So much for the Captain showing mercy; sending one of his underlings out to make sure Bucky would never be a problem again.

* * *

By the time the day of Choosing arrived, Tony was... resigned. For two days, Tony had tried to sneak out, to follow Bucky into exile. On the third day, he’d heard the news that the whole nation was whispering about: in defiance of the treaty with the kingdom of dragons, a dragon had attacked a human coach, tearing it to pieces and carrying away one of the passengers.

The day after that, Rhodey had admitted that it had, in fact, been Bucky who’d been snatched. Roxxy swore that the attack had not been sanctioned by the Captain -- indeed, that Steve was in a fury over it -- but that didn’t make Bucky any less dead.

Tony had utterly _wrecked_ his room that night in a fit of rage and despair, but when the sun’s first light had crept through the window, Tony had shut away all his feelings and risen.

He would be chosen.

He couldn’t have love, but he would have his dragon’s devotion. He couldn’t have Bucky’s touch, but he would have the skies around him. He couldn’t have the comfort of a lover’s presence, but he would have power.

Howard said something as Tony passed, about being glad to see _smart thinking had won the day, boy._ Tony didn’t acknowledge the comment, or his father, in any way. As far as he was concerned, Howard no longer existed. As a dragonrider, Tony could certainly banish Howard from ever, ever having anything to do with him again.

The Choosing was both elaborately lush and deceptively simple.

Dragons and their riders from all over the Nest returned to their home hatching grounds to bear witness to the few new pairings. There would be elaborate gifts, including the reinforced dragon saddle that would keep Tony from falling off when they flew together. You couldn’t steer a dragon, not like a simple horse, but the casings would strap his legs in place, provide some minimal protection from another dragon’s fire if it ever came down to such a thing.

The paired dragons formed a circle, spreading their wings to provide a wide, private dome.

“Come forth, and be Chosen.”

Tony closed his eyes briefly. Nothing mattered, not now. He drew a breath, and the hot ozone scent of nearby dragons was soothing, something that had meant _safety_ and _protection_ for most of his life. He let the breath go, and stepped forward.

The dragons were called up in no order that anyone had ever been able to figure, as it wasn’t by rank or age or color or name. But each came up, made their bow to the Priest of the Egg, and called the name of the rider they’d chosen, or said nothing, if they did not choose at this time.

A half dozen or more dragons came and went, and then finally, “Captain Steve.”

Maybe that was it; the dragons were rumored to have other names, not human sounding things at all, but ancient and improbable words of magic, unspeakable by a human throat.

“I Chose,” Steve said, in that deep rumbling voice, “Tony Stark, of the House Stark.”

Steve was the biggest dragon that had thus been born, stretching a mighty wing span of at least thirty feet, and his shoulders reached almost double Tony’s own height. Mostly blue, with red spines and fins, and a broad, white star over his chest, a matching one on his forehead. He was a mighty creature, powerful and strong.

Tony took another two steps, craning his neck to look up into Steve’s wide blue eyes. There was no fear in him, nor any exhilaration. “Tony Stark, of the House Stark,” he reported. “I am honored to be Chosen.” It wasn’t really a lie. He was cognizant of the honor, even if he couldn’t feel it now.

Steve would understand, even if he couldn’t acknowledge it.

“Bear up,” Steve told him. “The parties are tedious, but it will pass soon enough. Feel like some sort of trick pony myself, with this nonsense.”

A small flower of fond warmth bloomed, and Tony touched his forehead to the white star on Steve’s, letting the bond swirl between them. “I just want to fly,” he murmured, and felt more than heard Steve’s chuckle of agreement. He let himself be tucked up against Steve’s side, one of those enormous wings wrapped over him.

“This is just for show,” Steve said, turning a long, snake-like neck around to peer at Tony; his entire head was nearly the same size Tony was. “The bonding truly comes from first flight. And unless you are very, very brave and have a good strong grip, you’ll need a saddle.”

Tony glanced toward where Rhodey was nuzzling with Roxxy and wondered how much he’d risked when they’d climbed to Tony’s window the first time. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t be willing to try,” Tony told Steve, because that did sound both terrifying and exciting, “but... yeah, maybe a saddle would be a good idea for the first run.”

“There are many things you must learn,” Steve said. “And I’m sorry to say, very little time remains. I have done all I can to delay, but even dragons must bow to the inevitable.” 

Tony shuddered a little at that. “How long?” He would do what he had to do, but he wanted to know how long he would have to enjoy this, to enjoy the bond without the complication of a political mating.

“Perhaps eight weeks,” Steve said. “Enough time to train you with what must be done. Hydra’s patience runs thin with my near constant delay. If they are honest, I do not blame them for taking umbrage. And if they are not-- well, that’ll be an interesting day.”

Tony nodded. “All right. We’ll... We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“As you say,” Steve responded. Steve nudged Tony with his snout, nearly knocking him off his feet. “You should eat, and drink, and then we’ll both pretend to like the presents.”

It had been days since Tony had wanted to eat anything; the few bites he managed tasted like ashes and dust. But with Steve nudging him along, he made his way to the refreshments that had been laid out for the humans and managed to select something simple and force it down, filled a cup with water and took a few sips. “The rogue dragon,” he asked suddenly. “What’s happening with that situation?” _Why did Bucky die?_ he meant, but knew he couldn’t ask.

“Well, that depends very much on who you ask,” Steve said. “Hydra maintains that this is why we both need the treaty, that there are rogue dragons, and order must be maintained, paid in blood, made with sacrifice. Hydra believes we have been too lenient, and that humans have not been vigilant. There are rumors of _treasure hunters and dragon slayers_.”

“There are always rumors,” Tony pointed out. “Dragons steal from each other, too, it’s said. What does Hydra think you should be doing differently?” The candidates learned about the more prominent factions within the dragon kingdom, but the subtleties tended to get glossed over.

“Pool our resources, bring all our strength together, and force compliance against the rebellions, bring in the lone dragons to the Nest. That we should all unite under the same banner, where we can more easily protect the freedoms of our kingdoms and kin. I say-- I say it is not freedom, but fear, they wish.”

“Hail Hydra,” muttered a slender, brownish looking dragon, heavy with sarcasm. One of Steve’s seconds, his name was Coulson and his rider was a scruffy blond by the name of Clint.

Tony hummed. “If we are all united under the same banner... then from whom are we protecting ourselves? The other human nations? They’re no danger to us.”

“Dragons have another, a sacred purpose,” Steve said. “Although most of us don’t hold much truck with it. But if the Titans return, all the armies of dragons and all the armies of man will be required.”

Tony looked at Clint, but the blond was nodding seriously.

“The Titans,” Tony repeated, dubious.

“Everyone’s heard the stories, about the beginning and the gods,” Clint said. “What, don’t you pay attention in garden-school?”

“I know what they _are_ ,” Tony scoffed. “Does anyone think they’d actually _return?_ Really?”

“I think there’s a reason why we exist,” Coulson said. “And it’s not just to eat up livestock.”

“Enough politics,” Steve said. “Not here. Not now. This is a Nest matter, Tony. You understand. Until we know more, there’s no sense people living in fear. Fear makes them susceptible.”

That much, Tony understood. He nodded, and absently noticed that while they’d been talking, he’d at least managed to eat several more tidbits of food and to finish his cup of water. “What happens next?” he wondered, looking around. “When do we get to fly?” He’d been dreaming of flying dragonback since he was a child. It was one of the few things that he could honestly say he was looking forward to, even through the heavy grey mist of his grief for Bucky.

“Tomorrow,” Steve said. “We will settle into my lair tonight, and be fitted with the saddle in the morning. And then I have to learn to fly with someone on my back.”

“Yeah, you’re not much like the training dummies, is he?” Clint said, holding a hand up. “You got a tiny one, Steve.”

Tony snorted. “I’m not that short. Steve is just unreasonably big.”

The party dragged on, and most of the other dragons slipped away with their riders. “Forgive the imposition,” Steve said, finally, extracting Tony from a tedious conversation. “This way. If you’ll climb into the basket, I’ll carry you up. Tomorrow is soon enough to have someone show you the human hallways.”

Tony eyed the heavy basket critically, then climbed into it, sliding through the grips to crouch at the bottom. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” It was too bad he wouldn’t be able to see much from inside, but it was late anyway. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Steve grabbed the basket in his teeth, looking very much like the world’s biggest golden retriever carrying a stick. He trotted out into the wide courtyard, reared up on hind legs, wings flapping and stirring dust everywhere, and then all but threw himself into the sky.

The basket swayed precariously on its chain, and Tony laughed at the sensation of his stomach swooping away, like it did when he jumped from a high cliff into the water. “Faster?” he begged. He didn’t even know if Steve could hear him over the rushing wind, but this... this was what he had lived for. The edges of it, at least.

 _Hold fast_ , Steve said, and it wasn’t with his ears that he heard it, but some sort of private, mental way of speaking. _And it gets very cold._ Steve climbed, great wings pushing them up, and up, and up. The air got chilly and then downright frigid, smoke pluming in front of his mouth. 

The very top of the world, it felt-- the ground so far below Tony couldn’t even see the lights.

Then Steve swooped, and dove, wings tucked tight against his body, diving, faster than gravity.

Tony let out a whoop, watching through the gaps in the basket as the Nest came back into view and grew bigger and bigger. He couldn’t wait to find out what it was like to dive like this from atop Steve’s back.

Rhodey might have been right. Bucky was an ever-present ache in his chest that might fade with time but which would never really leave him -- but flying like this... it might be worth the rest of it.

Steve swooped into the very top cave of the Nest, claws tearing up the landing rock, which showed scars of many, many such landings and take offs. _And now, now we are truly bonded._

Tony had never been in a dragon’s lair before. There were dares, when he was a candidate, to sneak in and look, but if anyone had actually succeeded in that, Tony didn’t know who they were.

There was a huge stone platform, dusty and worn down in the middle, with a slightly higher platform next to it. And piled beyond that--

Steve’s hoard.

Tony froze, staring at it. “Wow,” he breathed. Tony’s own wealth would barely make a noticeable change to the pile.

“It is the work of many generations,” Steve said. “And I speak of both human and dragon generations, for we would never be able to mine or refine it to a pure state without clever human hands and minds.”

“I wonder what dragons did before humans started mining and minting,” Tony mused. He climbed the rest of the way out of the basket. “What do you do with it, anyway?” He walked past the platforms, to the edge of the hoard, to look at it.

“We are drawn to it,” Steve said. “The stones in the earth call to us. And it amplifies our magic. You might say we eat it, although that is a very crude method of explanation. And, of course, we’re always looking for the Stones. The six Stones.”

“What kind of stones?” Tony asked. He tore his gaze away from the treasure to examine the rest of the lair, poking curiously into every nook and cranny. 

“The Infinity Stones, the very tools the gods used to create the universe. Time and space, mind and soul, reality and power. Terrible and wonderful things can be done with them. It was our job to protect them. We failed and most of them are lost.”

“Most of them?” Tony turned to cock his head at the big dragon. “You have some of them?”

“We have one,” Steve said. “Hydra has one. At least one other is active in the world, although we have not been able to find who has it.”

“Hm. Well, we’re not going to figure it out tonight,” Tony said. He turned on his toes again, doing another visual sweep of the space. “Where do I... sleep?”

Steve nudged through some of the treasure until he unearthed several piles of fur and bolts of fabric. “I didn’t know what you’d like. But these will be soft and keep you warm. You may pile them on the high platform for now. I usually rest my chin there, but for one night, you can use it, and tomorrow we will arrange things better.” He gave Tony a long, slant-eyed look. “My general lack of preparedness can be cast entirely at Hydra’s feet. If I were ready to take a rider, surely, I’d be ready to take a mate.”

Tony grinned. “I wondered if you were stalling on purpose. I’m a lot older than some of the other candidates.”

Dragons did not blush. That was literally impossible. But Steve did manage to give off the impression of being slightly _guilty_.

“Sleep. There is much to do in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tony dragged a couple of the furs up onto the higher platform -- bigger than the bed he’d had at home, if not as soft -- and arranged them to give himself some cushioning, and found a length of heavy velvet brocade to serve as a blanket. He curled into his makeshift bed and watched as Steve curled onto the lower platform, claws scraping and leathery wings rustling.

Tucked safely between Steve and the hoard, Tony let exhaustion tug at his eyelids.

 _I’m a dragon rider now, Bucky. I hope, wherever you are, you’re proud of me._ If he couldn’t have love, being a dragon rider wasn’t such a bad consolation prize.

On that thought, he drifted into sleep.

* * *

“You have slept long enough,” a voice scolded him. “Wake up, you useless monkey.”

Bucky hadn’t expected to wake up at all.

He jerked, discovered he couldn’t move, and panicked, struggling. He was held, pinned to the ground, by a spread dragon-paw, claws digging into the sod all around him.

He stared, forgetting how to breathe, at a dragon.

Jet black with marks of red, it towered above him, bigger than a house. Bucky’s mind went blank with terror. 

He shrieked, did the best he could to cover his head. Not that it would matter. The dragon could bite him in half without even stretching their jaws.

The dragon made a huffing sound. “Stop that. If I were going to eat you, I’d have already done it.”

“Abducting me, knocking me into a tree, and squashing me don’t exactly lead me to trust you, you big lizard!”

The dragon bared its teeth. “Don’t call me a lizard,” it snapped. Literally. The teeth snapped only inches from Bucky’s face.

“Did I miss introductions?” Bucky shoved both hands at the dragon’s snout, trying to push it away. He might has well have tried to drink the ocean with a straw. The dragon was huge and heavy and apparently had a close, personal relationship with gravity. “Gods, you’re heavy.”

He wasn’t sure if it was bravery or terror, but he couldn’t seem to control his mouth; the dragon might eat him, or squash him, or any of a million things, but they were going to earn his damn respect before he gave them any.

The dragon huffed again, but it let up on the pressure a little and sat back. “You want an introduction? Very well. You may call me Natasha. And you are?”

“Alive, against all odds, apparently,” Bucky said. He didn’t quite get to his feet, that didn’t seem smart, and he was running slim on smart ideas. “Sar-- er, Barnes, ma’am. James Barnes. My friends call me Bucky.” He wasn’t sure why he added that. It was _very_ unlikely that the dragon was his friend.

“Mm. You know Stark,” she said. “The Captain’s new pet.”

“He doesn’t _belong_ to the Captain,” Bucky retorted, hotly. “He’s not a toy, or an animal--” Bucky choked because it was all true. He wasn’t a toy, but he did, in fact, belong to the Captain. Tony certainly didn’t belong to Bucky.

Not anymore.

“What difference does it make now?”

“You’re close,” Natasha said. “He would be willing to see you, speak with you.”

“Yes,” Bucky said, almost breathless with it. “Yes, Tony would-- he would talk to me. I just… I can’t get back to him, I can’t get near him. The Guard-- I’m… I’m an exile.”

The dragon’s claws gaped in a toothy grin. “There are ways around that,” she said. “And I need to speak to the Captain as soon as possible. You can get me there.”

“You’re a _dragon_ ,” Bucky pointed out. Maybe she hadn’t noticed. “Who’s gonna stop you?”

Natasha’s head tossed impatiently. “Are you naturally this stupid, or do you have to work for it?” she wondered. “The _other dragons_ , for starters.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Bucky said. “You’re really very charming, under the right circumstances. If I ever find them, I’ll let you know what they are.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you want with the Captain?”

Because seeing Tony again was one thing, even if it was only to be able to tell him that Bucky loved him, would always love him-- and betraying the entire kingdom and the alliance by delivering an assassin… well, Bucky might have to sit down and think that one over.

“I need to warn him,” Natasha said. “He cannot wed Rumlow. His life and the entire kingdom are in danger.”

“You want to crash the wedding? I’m all for that, your--” Bucky huffed. “So, like, what’s your title. I mean, am I just supposed to call you _Natasha_?”

Her huge green eyes narrowed to slits. “Would I have told you that name if I didn’t intend for you to use it?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “I’m what you might call poor as dirt. I’ve never so much as seen a dragon closer than across the city before.”

“Well, you won’t be able to say that again.” Natasha sat back on her haunches and studied Bucky closely. “I intend to stop the wedding,” she said, “as quickly as possible, and with any luck, end the Hydra faction’s influence. Your _Stark_ ’s life is in just as much jeopardy as the Captain’s. Will you help, or are you going to keep arguing with me?”

“Hey, I’m capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time,” Bucky said, getting to his feet and brushing off his pants. “Why can’t I do both?”

“Because in order to get you back into the city and then into the Nest,” she said slowly, “you’re going to become my rider. And arguing with a dragon aflight is, at best, a chancy move.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky squeaked. “I-- your rider? That’s… that’s not something like borrowing someone’s donkey for the afternoon. If I’m your rider, I can’t exactly give you back.”

“True,” Natasha admitted. “And as a rider, you cannot be denied entry into the city, the Nest, or most places within either. It’s something of a sacrifice, but what else does either of us have to lose?”

All of Bucky’s indignation and scorn fell away. “What _happened_ to you?” He couldn’t quite help it, put a hand out as if he were going to take the ultimate liberty and pat the dragon’s nose. Because everything she said was true; they would be bound, for both of their lives. She had to have lost everything to be willing to strike such a bargain with a human who could bring her no wealth, no status, no power.

“Hydra,” she spat, and sparks fell from her teeth as she clashed them again. “They destroyed my nest. Stole my hoard, killed my mate and crushed my eggs. They thought they’d killed me, as well.”

“Gods wept,” Bucky said. “Of course-- of _course_ I’ll help you.” He gave her a little salute. “You should have led with that.”

Natasha’s massive neck lowered a little. “I am not much in the habit of conversing with humans,” she admitted. She stretched out on the ground like a massive cat soaking in the sun. “Climb on.”

“You’re not much at all like a horse, are you,” Bucky complained. He used her leg to scale up the side, and settled himself between two giant spiny things just ahead of her wings. They seemed sharp on top, but her skin was warm, smooth like leather. Not at all lizardlike, for all that she had scales. 

“I should think not,” she said indignantly. “Hold on tight. No, tighter than that. We don’t have a saddle to keep you strapped in place, and I’d hate to lose you when I’ve come so far.”

“When _you’ve_ come so far, lady-- we’re in this together. Falling to my death is not high on my to-do list today.”

“Then for Egg’s sake, _hold on,_ ” Natasha chided, and without waiting for him to respond, her wings flared and she took several smooth steps and launched them skyward.

There was something ultimately freeing about being convinced he was going to die at any second. Fear was left behind on the ground, and -- he could not have said how, or when, or even what, exactly, was left in its place. But the entire world changed in an instant.

Became infinitely more precious and fragile. In need of protection. All interconnected, from the highest dragon to the lowliest worm and every creature and rock and thing in between. And he was a part of it, as common as dirt and as rare as rubies.

Valuable, because he was the only one like him that existed, or ever would again.

And somewhere in that strange awakening…

There was Natasha.

And she was all around him, like the air he was breathing, like the blood in his veins. Like the soul inside the matter of his body.

Bucky held on. With his legs, with his hands. With his heart.

_I love you._

_Egg save me from fools and romantics,_ Natasha returned. _Love is for children. A pretty enough story, but no match for the cold reality of life._

 _The Egg already gave you cold reality_ , Bucky pointed out. “Come on, let’s go home.”

 _Yes, by all means, let’s reunite you with your lover. You can spend all your poetry and philosophy on him._ Natasha’s whole body rippled like water and she banked, carrying them higher, over the hills as she turned into the setting sun.

* * *

Scraps of letters, pressed flowers, two locks of hair braided together and tied with a ribbon. All he had left of a simple soldier. All that remained of the love of Tony's life. 

Bucky had friends, of course, in the Army. A few people who knew that Bucky had a sweetheart he wasn't supposed to be with.

A few times, one of them had brought a note, or dropped one in a few hiding places. When Bucky couldn't meet up, or was going to be late.

And in the local library, a hollow holy book where notes could be stashed. Tony hadn't been able to check them after Bucky was exiled. 

But maybe Bucky had left something. In the moments before his quick court martial, before his hasty escort from the city borders.

Even while flying, the greatest thrill Tony had ever known, he couldn't help… wondering.

Hoping.

He couldn’t hide his purpose from Steve, not as closely as they were bound, now, but the big dragon seemed to understand that Tony needed some kind of closure. Steve only nudged the back of Tony’s neck as he made his way out of the Nest, heading toward the long path that would take him into town.

Tony thought he would check the hiding places first -- they would likely hold older notes and tokens, things Tony hadn’t found before. And then he would make his way to the barracks and find Bucky’s friends, ask if Bucky had managed to slip them a note before he left.

He was a dragon rider, now. His being on that side of town might raise eyebrows, but there weren’t many who could turn him away. Not even -- _especially_ not -- Howard.

There was a loose brick in the walkway near one of the walls where Bucky had often stood guard. Tony pried it up, hoping-- but there was nothing in the hollow underneath.

The old shed behind their favorite pub had a placard hanging on its side, advertising the place. Tony tipped it to the side and his heart thumped harder when he saw the creamy piece of paper there -- but when he pulled it free, the name written across the seal wasn’t his, or anyone he knew. Well, Tony and Bucky hadn’t been the only secret lovers in the city, obviously. Carefully, he put the note back where it had been, and moved on down the road, heading for the library.

At one time, the library had been a small, publicly held establishment, built on donations from local landed gentry, staffed by academics, housing books and laboratories and workshops and classrooms. Its doors open to all, for people to come together and learn and study.

Five years ago, the King’s college had set up two cities over and gradually scholars and priests, magicians and alchemists had packed up and paid for the privilege of sitting in rooms of much less comfort and achieving quite a bit less.

Many of the grants that had kept the building going were long since dried up, and only a few determined employees and patrons kept the library in service.

Bucky and Tony had spent many a quiet hour together, lost among the stacks where no one noticed them.

Tony had brought one of his own books from home -- a thick tome of a holy book that had been a gift from a distant relative -- and they’d hollowed out a section of it and hidden it in one of the dustiest, mustiest corners where no one else ever looked. It was one of their better hiding spots, indoors, away from the hazards of weather and somewhat less susceptible to accidental discovery.

Tony made his way through the winding shelves, circling until he was certain there were no more curious eyes on him, and then crouched to pull the book from where it was hidden behind several others on the very bottom shelf.

He trailed his fingertips over the gilt-and-leather cover. It was unlikely that Bucky, about to be hounded out of town, would have been able to stop at the library, of all places, but they’d kept a few tokens hidden in the book as well, things they didn’t want to be caught with but couldn’t bear to give up entirely. He would take the book with him when he left, he thought. A memento, in its own right.

Tony opened the cover, listening to the stiff leather crackle, and riffled through the pages until he reached the middle of the book.

The few treasures that had remained inside the book were gone. In the place where once had rested a carved wooden figure, a scrap of lace, and a shiny piece of glass shaped like a star, was a simple piece of paper, folded over.

Tony’s mouth went dry. Maybe Bucky had found time, after all. Or had given the direction to a friend. Tony touched the inner edge of the hidden compartment wistfully -- he couldn’t begrudge Bucky their mementos, but now they and Bucky were both gone. With a shaking hand, he withdrew the piece of paper.

On the other side, in a hand as familiar to him as his own, Bucky had written Tony’s name. Tony’s throat closed and tears blurred his eyes for a moment before he dashed them away to read Bucky’s final words to him.

The ink was strange, almost grey and watery and the paper released a puff that smelled like sulphur.

_Forgive my tardiness in assuring you that my fortunes have taken a strange turn, but that I am unharmed. I would take the time to explain in detail, but my traveling companion is already glaring at me. So, I am well, healthy as I can be, and still devoted._

_It is three days until the new moon as I write this. If you and your -- dear gods -- dragon, would be so kind as to meet with me, near the waterfall picnic spot, I have a great many things to share with you._

_-B_

Tony blinked rapidly, but the words on the paper did not change. He read them again, and yet again.

The new moon was that very night, and three days ago, Tony had been utterly certain that Bucky was dead. Three days ago, three _minutes_ ago. He traced the letters with one trembling finger. _Unharmed_. How could it be possible?

He sat on the library floor, frozen, re-reading the note over and over, for some unknowable time, and was only jolted out of his reverie when the old librarian coughed.

He reverently folded the note back into the book and then stuffed the book into his bag. He had to get back to the Nest, and quickly.

He’d barely reached the road that lead up to the great mountain that contained all the lairs of dragons when Steve soared overhead and landed with an earth shaking thud not all that far away.

“What is amiss? I heard your turmoil halfway across the city.”

It was _probably_ a good thing that Steve hadn’t taken it into his head to land inside the city and pluck Tony from the streets.

“He’s alive,” Tony gasped. “Bucky. He’s alive. Tonight, tonight he’ll be at the waterfall, he wants to meet me there -- meet us both. Steve. Please.” Tony gave the Captain his most beseeching look. “I have to see him.”

“I fail to see how this can be anything except a trap,” Steve mused. “And yet, the best thing to do with a trap is spring it, so someone else does not fall in. If you wish it, but you will go in leathers, and with a sword. I’m not about to lose you now.”

“Yes, whatever you say,” Tony agreed quickly. He flung his arms around Steve’s long neck in a grateful hug. “You’d never let anyone hurt me.”

“It’s much harder, you’ll find, to protect someone who acts against their own self-interest, but if I have to, I will do that, as well,” Steve grumbled.

“Thank you,” Tony said fervently, and scrambled up onto Steve’s back, settling between the spines at the base of his neck. “Let’s go!”

Steve was quite obviously not in any great hurry, but Tony knew well enough by now that even a lazy dragon could cover a lot of ground in a short period of time, and they were back in Steve’s lair on only a few minutes, when it would have taken most of an hour for Tony to walk there under his own power.

Tony’s leathers were perfectly fitted and beautifully made, as befit the rider of the Captain, dyed a bright red like a polished apple and decorated with gold as gleaming as the Captain’s own hoard.

His years as a candidate kept the sword from dangling awkwardly at his side, but it seemed a puny and pointless weapon when he sat astride a creature whose every claw was sharper and longer. Still, it was part of a rider’s duty to know how to use it, and Tony knew how to adjust his seat in the saddle to accommodate its length.

He hesitated a moment, then filled a sack with food from the tables set aside for the riders -- bread and cheese and meat, a bottle of wine. Who knew what kind of situation Bucky was in? And it was a picnic spot, after all.

Finally, dusk closed over the mountains. Tony fastened his armor and settled into the saddle, tightening the straps that would keep him secure if the Captain were forced to roll. He was practically quivering with excitement and anticipation and worry.

“If this is a trap, you will hear about it during every argument we have, for the rest of our lives,” Steve pointed out.

“That’s going to be true even if it’s _not_ a trap, Old Man,” Tony pointed out with a laugh. “But it’s definitely Bucky’s handwriting, which means if it _is_ a trap, someone’s holding him hostage, and he needs to be freed.”

“I dare say I can’t see a lot of value in a bog-standard human,” Steve said. “I mean, they must have some uses, but Riders are infinitely to be preferred.”

“Well, someone’s got to mine the gold,” Tony pointed out. “And refine and shape it. And keep other humans away from it. And then there are the farmers who keep your herds. And the cooks who feed your riders.”

“All right, so they have some uses,” Steve conceded, winging over the hills. “Which does not mean I see what someone else would wish to take one _hostage_. Unless it is to convince you to try to get me to part with some of my hoard. That, you understand, is very unlikely to occur.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said. “I just... I just need to _see him_.” He knew Steve could feel his desperate longing, echoing through their bond.

“It is tradition,” Steve said, carefully. “You will marry the rider of my mate. That cannot be changed if the treaties are going to survive. But concessions have been made in the past. Arrangements. Carefully. Discreetly.” Steve swooped and landed at the edge of the river. “And I am very curious what he may know of our renegade.”

It was a crackle of pain across the joyous song of _alive, alive, alive!_ that had been echoing in Tony’s heart, but-- “I will do what I have to do,” Tony said. “If he’s safe, if he’s... content. Then I will be satisfied with that.”

He unfastened the saddle ties and slid down Steve’s side to the ground. Mindful of Steve’s caution, he drew his sword before moving closer to the roar of the waterfall. “Bucky?”

“Tony?” A voice as familiar as the sound of Tony’s own heartbeat. A shape detached itself from a shadow-- “oh, thank the gods--”

From what little of him Tony could see -- the moonless night was very dark -- Bucky was freshly washed, although his clothes were in fairly sad shape, and he looked like he’d had a few rough days, but he was alive. 

“Tony, stop right there,” Steve snapped, briskly, fire dripping from his snout.

Momentum carried Tony another step or two before he stumbled to a halt, confused. His eyes still strained through the dark to see Bucky, but a sense of _danger_ and urgency echoed through his bond with Steve. “What-- What is it? What’s wrong?”

“He’s betrayed you, betrayed us both,” Steve snarled. “Back away.” Steve was breathing harder, each heave of lung accompanied by fire and spark-- getting ready to lay waste to everything in the little clearing with a single molten breath.

“No,” Tony said, shaking his head. “No, Bucky would _never_ \--” He spread his arms, placing himself between Steve and Bucky protectively. “Bucky, sweetheart, tell him.”

“It’s… complicated, doll,” Bucky said. “But--”

“You _reek_ of the renegade,” Steve accused.

The pool, where Tony and Bucky had swum many times, churned, roiled, and suddenly exploded, throwing water everywhere and revealing a shadow against the night, jet black. “I do not reek,” another dragon sneered, “and if you lay one claw on my rider, you will find it on the ground next to your head.”

Tony looked around hurriedly, sword coming up-- but there was no rider, no one in the area but him and Steve and Bucky and this new dragon.

Bucky sighed. “Natasha, lady, darling, second greatest love of my life. We talked about these dramatic entrances of yours.”

Tony blinked. “You’re her rider?” He looked from Bucky to the dragon -- Natasha, apparently -- and back. “You can’t be a rider. You don’t have any of the training. She doesn’t even have a _saddle_.”

Natasha stalked into the clearing. She was nearly as big as Steve, her head somewhat narrower and body a little less bulky, but her claws looked dangerously sharp and her tail whipped from side to side, glinting with barbs. “He is a natural. With powerful thighs. We don’t need a _saddle_. I’m hardly a horse.”

Tony could attest to Bucky’s thighs, at least, though perhaps that was a thought best kept to himself for the moment. He could feel Steve’s anger and indignation swelling, like a berry about to pop on the vine. “Bucky,” he pleaded softly, “what’s going on?”

“It might be easier, love,” Bucky said, patting Natasha’s shoulder like he was calming her, “if you let me do the talking. Romance and philosophy, remember? It’s all right. There’s no need to go wrecking the countryside.”

“ _Someone_ needs to start talking,” Steve growled, “before I am entirely out of patience.”

Tony reached out to put his free hand on Steve’s neck, which had the advantage of being calming and getting Tony close enough to scramble up onto Steve’s back if things went seriously wrong. “Go on,” he urged Bucky.

“Well, he’s just as charming as you are, my dear,” Bucky told Natasha. “It’s a… well, a match made in desperation. We have a proposal for you. Both of you, really. Natasha’s _not_ a renegade. She’s a survivor. The last survivor of the Red Nest. She knows many of Hydra’s secrets. And-- is currently a widow. Needs a mate. You know how it goes. So-- what do you say, Tony. Wanna get married?”

Natasha scoffed, spitting sparks and ash everywhere. “Useless monkey.”

“Dusty old lizard,” Bucky returned, almost fondly.

Tony could only blink and shake his head. “I-- Nothing would make me happier. But you know we’re already betrothed,” he said softly, aching. “Steve’s been promised for _years_. You _know_ that.”

“They destroyed my Nest,” Natasha said. “And still, I did not surrender to them. You would give your nest, your power, your Stone, to them for a promise?”

“If they keep their promise, they give me just as much power as I give them,” Steve said sternly. “That is the nature of an alliance.”

“You are being deceived,” Natasha said. “Hydra will not rest until the world answers only to them. They make this marriage to gain time to inspect your lair, to study your defenses, to find where you have hidden your Stone. And with two stones under their fist, how long do you think it will be until they take another? Or all of them?”

“Have you any proof?” Steve wondered. “You have already broken our accord with the humans, which was not an easy thing to reconcile.”

“I did not _break_ accords, they’re just a little… dented.” Natasha protested. “Look, this human, perfectly alive and uneaten, if a bit annoying and useless. One broken wagon. Hardly anything to be upset about.”

“I thought he was dead until _this afternoon,_ ” Tony said hotly.

“We don’t have _proof_ ,” Bucky said. “Except for one thing. Sitwell is _not_ bonded to Rumlow. Their partnership is a lie.”

Natasha nodded. “They used this lie on the Red Nest as well. Wed my hatchmate, and then in the night, the false rider slew my sister’s partner.”

Steve growled again, his wing curling protectively around Tony. “They would _dare--_ ” He managed to rein in his temper, at least somewhat, though Tony could still feel it roiling just under the surface. “This can be tested. And if you are correct -- what is your plan?”

“You need a mate. You need protection. You need another Stone. As it happens, I can provide all three,” Natasha said. “The Red Nest knew where the Time Stone could be found. We did not share that information with our oppressors.”

Surprise reverberated through Tony and Steve’s bond, but Steve only said, “You suggest that Shield allies with the Red Nest, a faction of one, instead of with Hydra. Who will certainly turn on us immediately when they find out.”

He was arguing, but he was also _tempted_ , Tony could tell. Steve had spent years trying to find a way out of his betrothal.

“I suggest that you take a mate who can _lay eggs_ ,” Natasha said, crisply. “And one who can call on the master of the Time Stone for support. And depose Hydra and drive their stinking remains off the face of our world.”

Tony looked at Bucky, barely more than a shadow in the darkness, but even the pale starlight was enough to show that Bucky’s eyes were on Tony, pleading silently.

If Steve mated Natasha, then Tony would marry Bucky.

He had to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat, the sheer ache of longing. He thumped Steve’s side gently. “We should test Rumlow’s bond,” he said softly, trying to sound reasonable. “If they’re lying about that... what else might they be lying about?”

Steve rumbled. “True.”

“See?” Bucky asked, turning to his dragon. “Much better than getting shot out of the air with one of the dragon bolts.”

Natasha snorted. “Why do you think I picked you in the first place? It was not because of your charming personality and delicate smell.”

“Look, I can’t help the clothes,” Bucky said. “But I took a bath.”

Tony glanced at Steve. The dragon’s defensive posture had relaxed, and so Tony risked a step forward. And then another, and when Steve didn’t call him back again, he was all but running, arms outstretched, until he collided with Bucky, those strong arms wrapping around and holding him tight, his face tucked into the safety of Bucky’s neck. “Oh, gods,” he gasped. “Bucky, sweetheart, I--”

“I’ve got you, doll,” Bucky said, holding Tony so tight he could barely breathe. “I’m right here. Gods, I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“I thought you were _dead_ , I can’t--” Tony’s hands were fisted in Bucky’s shirt, making it into even more of a rag than it already was. “I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

“ _Humans_ ,” Natasha said with heavy exasperation. 

* * *

It wasn’t until the two dragons flew away -- hunting, Natasha suggested -- that Bucky relaxed. Natasha, suspicious and hostile and reluctant to trust anyone, was going to eat. Maybe, like humans, dragons were particularly cranky if they hadn’t eaten recently.

So, for the first time since Tony had walked into the little clearing, Bucky had a moment to breathe. To think. To notice how thin Tony had gotten in only a few weeks, how weary he looked. “Being a dragon rider’s a hell of a thing,” he suggested. “Come on, we set up a little camp this way. I’ve got a proper pirate fire and a few other-- well, Natasha’s not got a lot of sense of ownership. All things belong to dragons, according to her.”

Tony huffed out something like a laugh. “Steve’s got some odd ideas in that direction, too. I brought some food, if you’re hungry.”

“Nat’s dropped a few sheep on me,” Bucky said. “Which you know, food, great. Except for all the dragon slobber. And no salt. Food would be--” Bucky suddenly couldn’t talk, his throat closing up entirely. During the extremely tense negotiations, he’d barely been able to look at Tony, much less think coherently about him.

This was… there was potential here for everything they’d never even dared to dream about. “Tony--”

Tony looked at him, eyes wide and dark. “I’m here.” It came out a little breathless, like Tony couldn’t quite believe it himself.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “I didn’t know if you’d come, if you’d get my note. Nat was all for storming the gate, demanding justice from Hydra in general, Pierce in specific. And pretty much lumping Steve in with them if he didn’t see sense and take her side immediately.” He laughed, because that had been an argument, and if Bucky’d had a lick less courage than he mustered, she probably would have eaten him whole and the consequences be damned.

“I didn’t find it until today,” Tony admitted. “I hate thinking that I could have missed you so nearly.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said. “Nat likes to joke about my romantic notions. We had plans of stopping the wedding. I object, and challenge to the death. That sort of drama, she’s all for.”

Tony laughed, and slipped his hand into Bucky’s.

“Sitwell’s a popinjay, I could beat him easily,” Bucky said.

“No question,” Tony agreed. “Rumlow’s scary, though. I’m still... it’s hard to believe you’re really here.”

“Didn’t think I would be,” Bucky admitted. “Been looking forward to the next moment and the next moment, without ever really thinking about right now, Otherwise I’d be curled up in a ball, weepin’ like a baby. All I could think about-- when Natasha showed me the possibilities… was gettin’ back to you.”

“I love you. I missed you so much.” Tony leaned into Bucky’s side, seeking warmth and comfort.

“Missed you, too,” Bucky told him. “Even a dragon couldn’t compare. But-- did your Steve tell you the _reasons…_ why a rider mates with the rider of his dragon’s mate? They consider it a kindness.”

“A kindness?” Tony shook his head. “Steve hasn’t said much about it. I think he was trying not to think about it much.”

Bucky indicated the downed log he’d been using as a seat; the fire banked low in a hollow in the ground. “Dragons don’t-- love. Not exactly, not the way we do. There are certain dragons and humans whose company is preferred, of course. But love, the way we think of it, is reserved only for the mating. There’s a _bonding_ , between dragons, the way there’s a bonding between a dragon and her rider. You mate with the rider of your dragon’s mate, because you love what your dragon loves.”

Bucky waited a moment, watched while the information sunk in. “Natasha-- is hoping that it will work the other way. She lost her mate, her Nest, her rider. She hopes… she hopes that because I love you, she will be able to feel that, through our bond, and be able to mate with Steve. To forge new bonds. But --uh. She did warn me that a dragon’s mating is pretty intense.”

Tony hummed and snuggled in closer to Bucky, eyes on the low fire. “Intense could be fun,” he said, a spark of humor and challenge dancing through his words.

“I think it will be,” Bucky said. “And thus, the dragons honor human custom, by marrying rider to rider. Think how hard it would be, on everyone. If you were married to me and loved Sitwell _anyway_.” Bucky shuddered with mock disgust. “Natasha’s not such a bad sort. She grows on you. Like mold. I think it will all work out.”

Of course, then the fun part would begin. A dragon coup, war for the first time in centuries.

Thank the Gods Bucky was a soldier. He was ready to fight to protect the things he loved. His dragon. His mate. 

Tony lifted his eyes, turning his gaze into the skies, toward where their dragons were hunting together. His mouth curved as his eyes went distant, concentrating, Bucky suspected, on his bond with Steve. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It’s all going to work out just fine.” He turned his smile on Bucky, then, and pulled Bucky closer for a kiss.


End file.
